


Broken Things

by owlettica



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Babitha-ish, Childhood Memories, Cunnilingus, Explicit Language, F/F, F/M, Former lovers to whatever these two ladies are now, Memories, No Plot/Plotless, Nostalgia, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Wait! There’s a little hetero sex in here too. People still do that sorta thing right?, post-Babitha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 12:17:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13317939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlettica/pseuds/owlettica
Summary: Tabitha Galavan takes a walk down memory lane.This fic takes place after the events of Gotham 4x11, “Queen Takes Knight”.Y’all know the drill. This smut is written by a sick fan with no Gotham or FOX association. Please don’t sue me. I have no money.





	Broken Things

Tabitha Galavan likes to think she’s not the sentimental type. She fancies herself more of a collector. Yet, despite her affluence, “the finest” never really interested her.

Tabi always preferred broken things.

She was fond of her brother’s forgotten baseball glove with the busted laces growing up. She didn’t care that it was sized for Theo’s hands or that it stretched her fingers too far to be comfortable.

She loved the way its supple leather enveloped her when she slid her hand into it. She relished the weight and intimacy of it. It was soft, warm and thick.

Tabitha laced it over and over again, keeping it together for as long as she could. Eventually, she was forced to part with it when someone found the old mitt and discarded the one thing she had left of Theo after the monks took him away.

Another time, when she was much younger, she found a broken shard of glass in her family’s seaside estate garden. It was cobalt.

Tabitha knew she wasn’t supposed to touch it, but she couldn’t help herself. The fact it was forbidden only made it more tempting and _beautiful_.

She carefully ran her fingers along its edge. It didn’t cut her, so she concluded it couldn’t possibly be that sharp. She explored the garden through its small blue lens —right until she tripped and fell.

At first, all she felt was the burn of her freshly-skinned knees. She quickly forgot them and checked to make sure she didn’t break her looking glass. Instead, she found her hand empty.

The moment Tabitha realized she dropped it, an angry red smile appeared on her palm. The gash was immediately drowned by rapidly pooling blood. She stared in wonder even after the pain came.

She got stitches later that day. She still has the scar.

— - —

Barbara wears lots of suits lately, so Tabitha’s surprised to find her in a cocktail dress. It’s a knee-length off-the-shoulder number with a slit. It’s electric blue —which means she wants to be noticed, is in one hell of a mood, or both.

Okay, _both_. This is _Barbara_ we’re talking about.

Tabitha had just begun to settle into their new business partnership, professional relationship or whatever-the-fuck it was they had. It initially shocked her to discover Kean was alive after having electrocuted her, but even Theo was once presumed dead before all that Azrael insanity.

Did _anyone_ stay dead in Gotham? Barbara even killed Butch —Grundy.

_What the hell?_

_Butch._

She was still incredulous that her broken teddy bear didn’t remember her at Cherry’s. Tabitha recalls the way he went after her in that ring.

_How could he not remember?_

She remembers the time she returned to Cherry’s to make him. She was just convinced she could, especially given she was able to deprogram the conditioning Zsasz used on Butch when they first met.

—

_“When we were fighting, you called me ‘Tabi’. Remember?”_

_“Grundy want to go back to friend Ed.”_

His words made her sick to her stomach.

_“Ed. Right. Your friend. Well your best friend Ed tied us to chairs, electrocuted you and CUT OFF MY HAND. Look at the scar. Ring a bell?”_

After looking at the scar, his vacant eyes peered back up at her. He shook his head no.

She kissed him and pleaded softly.

_“Remember me, Butch. I’m Tabi —your Tabi.”_

The desperation in her voice surprised her.

There was once a time those vacant eyes gazed adoringly at her. Butch worshipped Tabitha. He took his time exploring every inch of her with his huge hand and his mouth.

He tenderly kissed inside her wrists, behind her knees and in the hollows of her rib cage and hips. He rubbed her feet and even nibbled her toes. He thought nothing of denying himself because he wanted nothing more than to watch as she came all over him.

Tabitha would climb the bruiser, stretching her legs wide to straddle and ride him. It didn’t matter that his large frame made it impossible for her to completely wrap herself around him. She took as much of him as she could into her arms and pressed against the easy warmth that possessed unbelievable strength.

She’d languidly lean in and lazily rock her hips against him —her clit thick and wet after all the time he took with her. Tabitha loved how he filled her and lost herself in the delicious friction until her orgasm washed over her like soft summer rain: distant rumblings growing stronger before the inevitable warm shower.

Butch looked up at her with those soft eyes and lovingly said her name in his rich baritone. Afterwards, he’d envelop her in his beefy arms when they curled up together —carefully handling her as if she was a rare and precious object.

-

It was nothing like the way she handled him after she picked up that pipe. She beat the hell out of him in a desperate attempt to make him remember.

It was all in vain.

After a vicious beating, he vacantly stared back and offered more apologies to the “pretty lady”.

_“BUTCH! Say something! Say something.”_

She couldn’t bear to hit him again.

_“I’m sorry. I tried.”_

It surprised her how much it hurt to walk away.

—

After Tabitha shakes herself from the memory, she watches Barbara pour herself a drink before heading out to see Sofia, or Lee, or wherever the hell she’s going tonight.

Tabi tries not to stare, but it’s impossible. It didn’t matter how much the woman put her through, there was no denying she was a stunner. She watches Barbara’s chandelier earrings swing below her flirty blonde hairline. Her lips are painted a deep carmine.

She follows Barbara’s neckline to those shoulders she’s licked, sucked and bitten. She knows how the butt of her hand fits perfectly against Barbara’s shoulder blade and in the hollow of her hips. She’s intimately familiar with the curve of Barbara’s perfect ass beneath her palms.

Tabitha watches Barbara take a long sip of her drink. Her eyes trail down to her breasts and she imagines the lingerie beneath. It wasn’t that long ago when Tabitha regularly ripped it off her. She loved roaming that ivory flesh with her brown hands and fondling the taut pink nipples that were so pale against her chocolate ones. Those sweet peaks would eagerly rise and practically beg to be sucked.

Barbara was incredible in the sack —and such a fucking tease when she was on top. She’d rub those pert tits against Tabitha’s back and straddle her ass, grinding that sweet hot mound against her to show just exactly how wet she was. The warm faint kisses of her nether mouth made Tabi’s hips grind and thighs twitch involuntarily.

When Barbara wasn’t on top, she would toss her head back and writhe beneath her, possessively grabbing as much of Tabitha’s tits or ass or whatever she could get her hands on. She would pull Tabitha down towards her and plunge her tongue deeply into her mouth.

She was always so hungry.

So hot.

So _wet_.

And _her_ _taste_.

 _Fuck_.

Sometimes, Tabitha would go down on Barbara facing away from her. She’d get on all fours and lean down to spread those creamy thighs apart. Tabitha caressed and kissed inside them before licking up and down Barbara’s inguinal crease with her ass held high. Before taking her into her mouth, Tabi would nudge the underside of her chin against Barbara’s honey pot.

Tabitha loved how Barbara’s descending wet folds slid over and past her chin and lips until they alighted upon the soft underside of her tongue.

She recalls Barbara’s low throaty moans when she plunged her tongue deep inside her, lapping up that sweet nectar and teasing her delectable wet peak. Tabitha loved slipping two or three fingers in and out of Barbara’s luscious snatch while she flicked her tongue around those slick folds and that delicious clit.

Barbara usually responded by reaching past Tabitha’s wet black curls to dip into her gathering moisture. She expertly teased and rubbed Tabi’s clitoris between her thumb and index finger. Barbara would purr and grind as she did, taking Tabitha’s fingers deeper inside. The formidable Galavan found herself powerless beneath Kean’s adroit fingertips —especially when she was lost between Barbara’s legs.

It never took long for either one of them to come that way.

-

Tabitha’s stirring body brings her back to her senses. When she snaps out of her reverie, she can tell she’s wet. She emits a quiet frustrated huff.

By now, her former lover’s finished her drink and begun slinking toward her in _that dress_ and some high pointy slingbacks. She waves a manicured finger back and forth at Tabitha and smiles _that_ _smile_ with the beautifully dangerous edge. Her purr is low and throaty and she runs a finger from Tabitha’s lips to her chin.

“Don’t wait up. Momma’s gonna drum up some business, or trouble, or both. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t —which should leave you with plenty of options. Toodles, poodle.”

In Tabitha’s distracted state, she can only muster a half-hearted snort. She shrugs Barbara off.

Once Tabitha knows Barbara’s gone, she sighs in relief (or frustration. She’s not really sure). She shakes her head and swears off any more broken things.

Suddenly, Selina’s voice comes out of nowhere.

“Hey, Tabitha. Could you help us out here?”

She looks up at the doorway to find Selina standing with a disheveled but gorgeous redhead she’s not sure she recognizes. Tabitha doesn’t know what’s wrong with the woman, but it’s clear _something_ is.

After brief consideration (and against her better judgment), she responds.

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever.”

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this fic from a prompt to write about dualities. I thought it’d be fun to contrast Butch and Barbara (their gender and personalities) from Tabitha’s point of view, as well those textures.
> 
> (On a separate note, I figured it was high time this self-proclaimed lesbian finally wrote a little girl on girl. Whoulda thunk it?) 
> 
> I’ve gotta compulsion for pairing tunes with my fics. I confess, this one was challenging. After great deliberation, I finally landed on [ Siouxsie and the Banshees’ “Dazzle”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZrCzTgUe2M):
> 
> “...Swallowing diamonds  
> A cutting throat  
> Your teeth when your grin  
> Reflecting beams on tombstones
> 
> A jamboree of surprises  
> Playing Russian roulette  
> Or the lucky dip  
> A clenched fist to your heart  
> Coal dust on your lungs
> 
> A silver tongue for the chosen one  
> Heavy magnum in your side  
> Or a bloody thorn
> 
> Skating bullets on angel dust  
> In the dead sea of fluid mercury  
> Baby piano cries  
> Under your heavy index and thumb  
> Pull some strings —let them sing…”
> 
> Oh, yeah. I had no beta reader. All mistakes are mine. Gimme a shout if y’all find errors requiring my attention.
> 
> For those of you who made it to the bottom of this thing:  
> Thank you kindly. Really. It means a lot.
> 
> Love, peace and chicken grease, y’all.


End file.
